


All The Pretty Stars

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Alien!Holtzmann, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, Government Agencies, Minor Character Death, Science Fiction, Teaching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: "I'm Erin." She points to herself, repeating loudly and clearly, "Erin."Pointing to her companion, "Abby."The girl, although having gone through recent trauma seems to understand the concept and seems to be sure of herself when she taps the center of her chest and states, "Holtzmann."..The Ghostbusters get more than they bargained for when something crash lands and worms it's way into their little family.





	1. Crash Landed

The firehouse is quiet, lights off except the bright overhead lamp illuminating the corner desk and whiteboard. Her hand drags the marker back to start a new line, an equation of sorts forming to life on the blank board as she chews on the marker's cap.

A dog howls outside the open window, far enough a way Erin isn't entirely sure she isn't hearing it echo from down the city blocks.

Variables taking place on the whiteboard, the woman sighs when the phone starts ringing consistently on the heavy mahogany desk behind her. Dutifully she reaches over and answers the caller with as much prep someone up at two in the morning can muster,

"You've reached the Ghostbusters, how can we help you?"

__________

"Stupid ass ghosts thinkin' they can wake me," Patty complains loudly as she directs the hearse down the sidestreets and toward the address they'd been given just minutes ago, "I was havin' a wonderful dream you know?"

"Was it the one about that guy you saw last week at Walmart again?" Abby asks off handedly, scrolling through their shared work tablet and memorizing the location of the call.

"It was," Patty frowns deeply, "Damn that dude was _fine_. I think his name was Deshawn, I can feel it."

"Something's wrong." Abby voices her concern, ignoring Party's dreamy sigh next to her and directing a question at the woman behind them in the backseat, "Are you sure this was the location?"

"Yes, I confirmed it there times. Sighting of flashing lights and loud crashing noises, family was so scared they just left and took off to grandma's house. That's where they called from to give me their home address." Erin states, strapping the harness of her proton pack on in the cramped car.

"The lot is _huge_." Abby draws the last word out with exasperation, "If there are ghosts here, it's going to take forever."

"It's all property. Open land. If anything, it'll be easier." Erin comforts her friend as Patty finally turns onto the street they'd been given.

The driver gulps audibly and looks up, her eyes widening impossibly large, directed up at the swirling black smoke standing out against the nighttime cloudy sky, "Guys, I don't think we'll have a hard time findin' them."

_______

Crunch, crunch, _crunch_ goes the fall leaves under their feet as they go quietly and cautiously toward the smoking, sparking pit of metal in the ground they'd seen as soon as they pulled up the driveway.

The grass around it is burning a very tiny fiery blaze as they step six, five, four feet away from the strange site.

"What kind of ghost caused this?"

Abby's voice is unsteady and nerve-racked as the weight of the metal shifts under the heat of it's fire.

Erin breathes out heavily, her hair pulled out of her face in a low ponytail that still allows some bangs to frame her forehead, "I'm not sure if this is a ghost-"

There is a horribly shrill _grinding_ sound, one that has all three of the busters covering their ears, until the noise accompanying it has Erin stepping forward,

A horribly painfilled wail that goes on after the creaking stops, dissolves into softer whimpers coming from somewhere in the… _wreck_?

"There's someone in there." Erin rushes out in one breath, feels her chest tighten at the thought of someone beneath the weight of all those plates, "We have to get them out."

"Shouldn't we call like, the actual fire department." Party's voice is higher and nervous as she gestures wildly toward the scene, "THIS ISN'T A GHOST."

Another agonized cry, something that is not English following the noise, making the much taller woman next to Erin start a chant of,

"Oh HELL no. I didn't sign up for no E.T bullshit. I'm out. I'm done. I'm- Erin what are you DOING?"

her feet are steady enough on the metal plates as she steps over them. The crash is a little bigger than a large car, small enough that the scientist can lean over the hot material and peek into the cavity it covers.

Underneath. A girl, a _woman_ more like it, with curly blonde hair and a very metallic shirt and shorts on. There are tears in the clothes and cuts littering her very human looking skin, the only immediately injury the obvious head trauma caused by crashing.

There is blood running from her ears, slightly pointed and all of a sudden Erin's throat feels dry because where is this thing from?

Blue eyes are open and staring up at her so suddenly it nearly takes her breath away, with such panic and fear it has the older woman assuring, "You're going to be ok, you're going to be fine. Ok?"

The girl's voice is guttural and slurred with dizziness when the stream of noises comes off her tongue. The words, Erin guesses, seem pieced together as the girl pushes up on her elbows, from laying flat to being propped up by herself seems to be too much though, and she uneventfully falls back into the former position, hands grabbing onto the sides of her head and groaning.

"You don't..." Erin pauses, for what feels like a long time, her brain feels foggy from all the new information being thrown at her in such a short time period, "You don't speak English. Ok. I can do this."

The last part is more to herself then anyone else, and Erin sees Abby look over at the girl too, her own eyes probably mirroring the stunned look to her friend's.

"I'm Erin." She points to herself, repeating loudly and clearly, "Erin."

Pointing to her companion, "Abby."

The girl, although having gone through recent trauma seems to understand the concept and seems to be sure of herself when she taps the center of her chest and states, "Holtzmann."

"Ok. Holtzmann." the name, presumably, seems to ease some of the terror in the stranger's eyes (blue) before Erin is shrugging off her proton pack.

"What are you doing?" Abby inquires in a pleading sort of tone, "You'd be crazy if you think we can just pull her out and save her. This isn't a movie, Erin."

"What else do we do?"

"Call the government!"

"Would they even make it in time to get her out?" The question is loaded, a kind of dare to try and say they sound let the girl simply die because they're too cowardly to perform a simple rescue.

"Fine," Abby relents, "We have medical supplies back at the firehouse. Then we call the Mayor."

Holtzmann, for her own argument seems to be terrified, her body flinching when Erin drops down next to her and suddenly there is a realization that this is in fact a cockpit that has screens and controls has the darker haired woman glancing around the spot like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

Sure, there are probably a few sets of new parents out there that would protest that fact, but Erin doubts they have anything against this.

The blonde groans, her skin warmer than any human she'd ever met and Erin supports her shoulders and lifts with all she's got to get her off the ground.

Holtzmann stumbles, leans heavily into the human's side before a choked, shocked noise escapes the… _alien's_? Mouth.

"Gorin?!" Is the call, frantically followed by another, "Gorin?"

That's finally when Erin spots the hand limply hanging off the edge of the pilot's (?) seat. Trying to comfort the jumpy girl, Erin tries her best to block the view but then she hears Holtzmann's breath catch so quickly joined with the exclamation of, "Gorin!"

Falling out of Erin's arms onto the ground, head injury be damned, Holtzmann shuffles toward the hand and tugs gently on it first, then harder after two more tries.

Erin's heart nearly breaks at the sight, the blonde whispering in her own lauguge that hiccups with hitched speech. She doesn't miss they way Holtzmann's tears arent't, in fact, clear. They're blue and shiny and remind Erin of liquid sapphire as they trail down her cheeks.

Unable to wait any longer, Erin cautiously puts a hand on Holtzmann's shoulder and pulls, supporting the hobbling blonde as they walk together toward the car.

None of them knew, however, of the fleet of black, unmarked vehicles speeding toward their location.


	2. Language Transfer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you read dc comics you might notice I stole a bit of alien biology from them. But it's ok because I spend so much money on merch for that company I deserve the right to.
> 
> Secondly, if Holtzmann seems a bit OOC for a few chapters do not fret! I highly doubt she would be her usual self after such a hard landing and during mourning. You will start to see Holtzy becoming Holtzy very soon.

"How can such a tiny white girl be so heavy?" Patty's voice is strained as she hauls the limp girl from the backseat of the Ecto-1 with labored breath, the larger woman easily the strongest one in their group but somehow still finding the simple lifting task difficult.

"You don't know if she's white-"

"This girl is whiter than Trump's cabinet," Abby adds, her eyes rolling, "And I think you know that."

"Damn, she got creepy ass alien blood all over the backseat," Patty groans, throws her head back as soon as she lifts the girl into a bridal style hold, "I am NOT cleaning that up."

________

In the moment, the best place to deal with the blonde's injuries is upstairs (much to a certain carrier's dismay) on the futon kept there for late nights and mid afternoon naps after busting.

There is a loud _thump_! as the unconscious Holtzmann is deposited on the white sheets, immedately making them crimson with blood.

"Could you be more gentle?"Erin scolds, looking up at Patty and finding a bit of an apologetic expresson on her friend's face.

"What if it bites?"

"It's not an 'it'. It's a she."

"Well done assuming an alien's gender, Gilbert."

Abby goes off to find the medical kit after her comment, effectively leaving Erin to carefully rearrange Holtzmann into a comfortable looking position on the futon until,

"You're going to have to undress her."

Abby's return has Erin blushing bright at the thought, shooting a glare at her oldest friend and a retort of, "Why can't you?"

"Because I'm going to inspect her head injury. And Patty is getting water. Scared, Erin?"

The smug look is enough to have Gilbert's hands tugging softly at the soft metallic shorts and repeating in her head, please let there be alien underwear, please let there be alien underwear, please let there-

There isn't.

"Do you think that's a genetic thing?" Abby offhandedly comments, a bit of teasing in her voice, "I would kill to never have to shave."

"I'm not discussing our patient's pubic hair with you, Dr. Yates, or her lack of it."

"Sure, sure."

The top comes off with similar results and another remark of, "Looks human to me." from a busy Abby trying to wipe away blood from the cut on Holtzmann's head.

Not thinking anything off it, just as Patty trots up to the top stair, Erin leans in to tug the shirt over the blonde's head carefully as Abby leans back to let her. Only to be stopped by the limp girl's sudden movement, eyes popping open, pupils large and round and blinking at her, before the girl bolts up and mashes her lips to Erin's.

There is first the shock of the moment, followed by the true shock and Erin pulls away only to be held back and pulled forward so that, oh god, she can totally feel boobs through her jumpsuit.

Then they break, uneventfully with Gilbert falling back off the futon and staring dumbly at the contemplating look on the strange woman's face.

Where Patty was is a bucket of water and a towel, her voice booming downstairs about being right about biting and something about babies of the extra terrestrial type popping out of stomachs.

Of course, it nearly floors Erin and Abby when Holtzmann looks back and forth between the both of them and offers,

"Hi."

________

"That's… impossible."

"My kind- transfer language and intel through e-e-extended lip contact. It's especially useful in… what's the word? Times like this."  
  
Her voice is soft and defeated as she explains the simple biological effect to the two stunned woman surrounding her. The guttural tone to her voice isn't lacing these words, but she stumbles frequently in her speech.

"Kind?" Erin breathlessly questions, even as Abby carefully continues to clean up the head wound.

"I'm from the Practuium system, from a planet called Stellabarus," She's careful with each sound, like she's tasting the language on her tongue, "May I ask where you, where we are?"

"Earth." Erin tries, but upon the look of confusion she explains, "I don't know where that is in relation to your home, though."

"Do you have," Holtzmann pauses, apparently unbother by her own nudity, "I do not which word to use. Picture? Photograph?"

"Map?" Erin offers, is glad she does because the _smile_ that lights up the girl's face is bright and thankful.

"I did not know the proper pronunciation. But yes, map?"

It takes Erin a moment to find a detailed, and large chart on her laptop, looking up to see a blanket covering Holtzmann now and Abby wrapping gauze around the girl's head.

Holtzmann studies the map for a few moments, taking in all the foreign names and designs before fidgeting with the blanket's edge, eyes a little fearful as she admits under her breath, "I cannot find it."

"It's fine. You need to eat first." Erin eases the laptop away and tries to think of what to get an alien for breakfast before she calls down to Patty,

"We need Chinese food!"

________

"Here ya go my ladies. The most delicious, aamazin' food in all of NYC." Patty announces, carrying three bags marked with 'thank you' and a smiling face.

"Summthin' for you," Patty hands Abby a tub of soup before turning toward Erin and sighing, "Since y'all ordered everything but the sink, here."

"The _sink_?" Holtzmann asks outloud, confusion in her tone as she stares up at Patty, "Would some one be able to order one? I doubt they pay attention to what you tell them to do."

"No, she meant ordered as in asked for," Erin corrects before adding, "And Patty uses a lot of slang, so you'll have to get use to her way of speaking."

Patty looks around slightly stiffly before offering a smile and a friendly, "Sorry 'bout that."

Holtzmann returns the gesture with an excited, "Do not apologize, I would love to learn it."

Everyone except Patty and Holtz sighs loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a fully flushed out plot line and plans for this story. I basically have a completely written out base for Holtzmann's past and it's gonna be peaches n' screams


	3. Press Report

_"Rumors of a unidentified flying over New York City last night are spreading-"_

_"-While it is not known what the white house's report has to say on this appearance-"_

Click goes the remote again as Erin flips to yet another breaking story, a television journalist panel is discussing the late night drama when a woman speaks up,

" _How can the government think we'll buy another 'those aren't real' story when the Ghostbusters team is already proving them wrong."_

_"Susan, you're making amazing points but we'll get back to it after this break and remember_ ," The reporter organizes the papers on his desk casually while reminding the camera, "To tune in on the hour for live feed of the White House briefing of this event."

Erin rubs her temples lightly, closing her eyes as she leans against the table, it's heavy well crafted form not shifting under the pressure, unbothered by the commercials now running on the television mounted against the wall.

Sleeping fitfully nearby, Erin hears the tossing and turning of Holtzmann, now outfitted with one of her old Columbia tee shirts and spare underwear for when a bust causes the unfortunate but workplace hazard of being slimed.

At least she assumed the girl was sleeping.

"Hello."

The accompanying shoulder tap her jump in her spot and spin around, meeting the tired eyes of their guest who is shorter then her by a few inches.

"I find it fascinating," Holtz finds nothing wrong with carefully reaching up to twirl a few strands of auburn hair in between her fingers, "Are all of your type like this? All different?"

This close together, it makes the older scientist's stomach flip and do cartwheels from the memory of exactly how those pink, soft lips felt against her own. Deliberately clearing her throat before querying, "What do you mean? Hair color?"

"Yes. On Stellabarus," The foreign name is the only thing that seems to take her back into a very different accent, it's very rough and reminds Erin of a vaguely Scottish undertone, but completely it's own. "We do not have such, variations. We all look very similar."

_A planet full of people that look like you_ , Erin thinks with an internal screaming voice, _sounds like paradise_!

"What does that mean?"

"Did I say that outloud?" Erin squeaks, her voice high and tense, "It's nothing. Oh my god, I'm so bad at flirting-"

"Flirting? The closet word in relation to that is courting and it is the amorous advances. Do you wish to court me, Erin?"

The way she speaks is formally quirky, with words elongated and pronounced in a odd way Erin can only describe as _weird_ in a wonderful sense.

"Courting is directly tied to mating-"

The yelp Erin let's out doesn't even faze the blonde as she continues, "Mating between us could be quite difficult without information on your biology. Would you like me to check if we are compatible?"

"Listen, before this gets any crazier-"

The television does the job of stopping the awkward conversation before it goes on any longer with a blaring alert of a briefing on last night.

And that's when the world _implodes_.

_______

It doesn't truly implode on itself.

The traffic outside honks and speeds by like any given day, and the clock on the microwave keeps turning over to a new minute ever sixty seconds, but something certainly does _shift_.

Because some stiff looking white house representative walks out in front of all the present reporters, cameras and the nation with the plain explanation that they've accounted the crash to extraterrestrial life forms.

Erin takes a second to see Holtzmann staring at the screen with guilt on her face when the man also advises that they found a deceased body on board the crashed ship.

"We will not be releasing photos of the specimen,"

"Gorin." Holtzman corrects the man as if he can hear her. He doesn't.

"But after extensive dissection by our top staff members we officially can confirm that the alien could not of injured us without outside assistance. With that noted, we are also issuing a nationwide alert for what appears to be a second specimen that left the scene. More details will be released after we take questions."

There is a voice in her head, yelling, that she needs to call the police, the mayor, someone. But then Holtzmann looks so defeated and pale, curly hair up and spilling around the gauze wrapped tightly around it, that instead she informs, "You can't stay here, not anymore. They'll find out we went on that call and come looking here."

Holtzmann pulls on the edge of her shirt, biting her bottom lip as Erin stares at her hard,

"You're coming home with me."

_______

"Gilbert you stop that right now!" Abby scolds, her own face showing a high rate of disbelief, "You can't just take her home like a stray dog."

"They dissected the other one." Erin stresses her point, "What would they do to Holtzmann if she was found?"

"That isn't your problem." Abby tries, even if the crack in her words lets out the fact she too doesn't want to see their visitor locked away and treated like a parasite.

"She…" Erin drops the sentence off early, hands wringing together in a worried gesture. The firehouse feels empty and yet pressing down on her all at the same time when she states, " I can't just let them hurt her. It's the right thing to do."

"I don't want that either." Abby admits, scrunches up her nose at the tbought, "What do we do then?"

"My place is only a block away," Erin starts, "I can walk her there and she won't have to worry about anyone walking into our workplace and asking questions."

"For now." Abby relents.

________

"Oh my god."

"Is it the hat?" Holtzmann quizzes, tapping the brim of the wide and floppy sunhat with two fingertips, "Or is it the wig? Too much?"

"I think the hat will work alone." Erin determines if only based on the fact a bright pink hair piece might bring more attention then the pointed ears the sunhat does a fine job of hiding. On Holtz's legs is a pair of long, baggy black sweatpants found stashed away in the back of the firehouse's many lockers, her hands busy knotting and untying the drawstrings of them over and over as Erin adjusts the hat to keep the tops of her ears out of sight.

Then Abby opens the door and Holtzmann actually screams.

It's more of a booming yell of, "Whaaaat??" than anything, but she finds purchase on Erin's arm ans grips like a vice before observing. "It isn't dark outside."

After receiving no response she looks to both women and asks tentatively, "Why isn't it dark outside?"

"Our planet spins." Abby says, "It spins on it's axis, resulting in the sun rising and setting on each area as it turns in relation to it."

"Stellabarus doesn't spin like that. Not fast." Holtzmann sounds amazed, a familiar twinkle of curiosity sparking in her eyes.

"Come on," Erin takes starts to lead her out toward the doors, making sure she is as normal looking as possible as she promises, "I'll tell you all about Earth when we get to my apartment."

Holtzmann offers a toothy grin before trailing after her.


	4. Lost Dog

Going back, Erin really should of used better judgment, because one cannot just take someone into the streets of New York City without even thinking about what a sensory overload it could be. There are people going to work, uncaringly brushing up against the two, each shop has very distracting items on display according to each time Holtz pauses for a second to look.

They make it two storefronts down the sidewalk, Holtzmann's eyes darting around like a game of pinball, _ding ding ding_. But she's squints as soon as the overhead canopies stop shielding them from the sun, and she cries out softly before putting her hands over her eyes.

The hat doesn't help with how it's pulled down in the back and sides to cover her ears, but Erin notices how she stops walking and nervously tries to take her hands away from her face with a, "Holtzmann, Holtz what's wrong?"

But the blonde shakes her off, and Erin feels her heart leap into her throat as Holtzmann darts into the middle of the street, hands still rubbing at her eyes. There is a bright yellow taxi barreling down the street and the driver turns just in time, tires _screeching_ as he barely misses the tiny blonde, a heavily accented voice screaming over the tires burning, "Get the fuck out of the road!"

Erin steps to the curb, almost getting hit herself when the older woman calls out pleadingly, "Holtzmann!"

But the blonde is confused, scared and in pain. Her hands keep swiping at her eyes and cars have started to back up on the street, creating a chorus of horns.

Holtzmann bolts.

___________

"What do you mean you lost her?"

"Nu-uh girl you gotta go find that little alien." Patty voices after Abby, "Holtzy isn't gonna make it a day out there."

Erin feels _horrible_ , her stomach is turning and her knees feel weak with stress but she explains, "I think the sun hurt her vision. Not to mention loud noise made her take off. I followed her until she rushed into a crowd. Down on the corner."

"She couldn't of gotten far." Abby dejectedly says, stepping away from the two gathered at the workbench before coming back with a map, "Where do we look first?"

"We should split up, like them monster busting white kids on cartoon network."

"Patty has a point," Erin supports the idea, "Cover more ground then us together can. We all go opposite directions and whoever finds her first radios the others."

Patty, resident city expert points to a few dots on the map, "Subway stations. Dark but loud, 50% chance she goes there."

"Ok," Abby sighs, pulls on a pair of boots before declaring, "Let's go find our alien."

_________

Erin once lost a dog when she was younger.

It was a small terrier that bit her feet and only sat on her mother's lap, but she vividly remembers riding her bike and pinning up lost puppy flyers on poles and asking everyone she came into contact with if they saw said animal.

They had found it, after a week, shivering in an alley, hidden in a box with one of it's ears missing a piece from what appears to have been a fight.

It died, and Erin didn't even cry because that dog _sucked_ , to be honest. Then her parents got her a hamster.

It's been four hours and Holtzmann hasn't even been spotted, and a sinking feeling builds in her gut like a knot of anxiety, twisting up her insides as she checks the twentieth dark alleyway since she'd been looking.

Then the radio buzzes on her hip and she listens to Patty clearly tell them all,

"Found her."

________

Patty gives them directions to a station about two stops away from the firehouse, and Erin never felt so bad in her life.

The guilt sits like a lead canon ball in her chest when she sees Patty carefully ( _protectively_ ) standing near the huddled form on the dirty subway floor a distance away from the turnstiles.

"Holtz?" Erin tries when she sees the girl covering her ears. The hat is gone, and it worries her more than it should that she's so exposed out here. But her fingers are pressed together and her face is screwed up in almost a painful way.

"Loud noises." Erin states outloud, noticing Patty is standing next to her and theorizes, "The light. The sound. Oh my god, I'm so stupid. Of course she hasn't adjusted to these things yet."

"You say yet like she can."

"We'll help her."

"How?"

"Just…" Gilbert rubs her temples, watches Holtzmann tremble when a train rushes into the station, "I'll figure it out, we need to get her to my apartment."

"I can't get her to even notice me." Patty says, looking around to make sure nobody has taken an interest in the very, very challenged girl rocking on the floor close by.

Holtzmann flinches when Erin actually kneels next to her and asks softly, "Are you OK?"

Contemplating doesn't take long, the answer comes in the form of a short but powerful shaking of her head, Holtzmann's hair bouncing even around the bandages. She looks so small then, like a child hiding from arguing parents. Erin is close enough to see her eyes are glossy and avoiding looking anywhere near the overhead lighting, bright and obnoxious.

"Do you want to," Erin holds back from saying _home_ because that feels like possibly the worst thing to say at this moment, "Do you want to come with me? Can I help you?"

The nod is all Erin needs to take one of the blonde's arms and help her stand, unsurprised when Patty darts over and tugs off the scarf she'd been wearing around her neck, tying the sheer but dark and concealing purple fabric over their responsibilities head.

Responsibility, it doesn't seem to fit in the same window as the girl, but it certainly is true.

Ears covered and eyes downcast, Erin asks, "Do you trust me?"

A nod in response after a long pause.

Taking Holtzmann's hand (it's small but calloused, sweating but steady) Erin leads them all toward the stairs.

"You're going to be fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really appreciating the lovely feedback on this as it is my first Ghostbusters fic! I have more in mind too, so stay tune and review so I stay happy and writing lol


	5. Giraffes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled, I couldn't think of a chapter title

"You're going to be fine." Is a big promise, one that Erin Gilbert is not entirely sure how she'll keep it. The public is on watch, enough that enough people are deliberately checking out passerbys as they walk down the sidewalks.

The ecto-1 offers cover from these prying eyes as they roll towards Erin's tiny apartment. Patty at the wheel and Abby on her phone in the passenger seat. Erin has her own out, the recent news blowing up her feed.

Holtzmann ducks her head when the building shadows let off into patches of sun that streams through the windows, scooting away from the window and closer to Erin's side.

Really close.

Her shoulder brushes against the blonde's and she squeaks, but it is luckily ignored in favor of Patty's announcement,

"We're here."

..

"Here. You can put your shoes there," Erin vaguely points to the mat next to the door, neatly placed in the foyer area of the her home. _Home_ is a loosely used word, it's more of a few rooms left undecorated like some model display in IKEA, but she still has a few photos nailed into walls scattered, and a large bookcase with various textbooks. Holtzmann stares at her, long and a look that simply says _what?_ Erin nods to herself quickly before crouching down in front of the blonde and helping tug off her loaner boots.

Holtz's hands lean on Erin's shoulders as she steps out of the shoes and watches Erin place them on the mat very tidy. "Shoes," The darker haired woman explains, taking off her own heels and putting them besides the boots, "Go here, Ok?"

Holtzmann nods, even though she really doesn't. Earth has very confusing ways, the alien never had foot coverings on her home world. But Erin is a very kind, and Holtz refuses to admit it even to herself but she is _scared_ and they are no longer outside so it is helping.

  
Erin realizes Holtz is not going to follow her further into the apartment without more, well, hand holding. Literally.

She gently tugs the strange girl into the living room and plants her on the couch. Taking a moment to just breathe and remind herself that yes, this is real and happening, Erin wipes her hands on her skirt and asks, "Are you hungry?"

Holtz thinks for a moment, then nods.

"What do you... What do you eat?" It's an awkward question, one that has her house guest tilting her head before quietly asking back,

"What do you mean?"

"Are you…" Erin thinks of using the larger, proper terms for the subject but settles for the simpler version of, "Do you eat meat or vegetables?"

"Meat," Holtz repeats, "From my intelligence transferal I can only take from the word it means- does it mean eating things that once _lived_?"

There is a bit of shock, a bad attempt at sounding calm (Erin wouldn't blame her for being nervous, the events of the day made _her_ nervous) when Holtz almost mumbles, "You eat people?"

If it were another time, Erin would laugh at the way her eyes are wide, mouth hanging open dumbly. "No, we eat animals."

"We don't have those on Stellabarus. Animals? My species is the sentient type on the planet." Holtz tugs at her clothes, rubs the oddly soft material between the pads of her fingertips. Erin sits down next to her, a friendly distance left to separate their personal space, "Can you please explain these things?"

..

It is three in the morning, the window is open to allow a very soft breeze and popcorn sits abandoned on the coffee table, laptop screen providing the only lighting in the room.

Animals, it turns out, are fascinating.

There are large ones that Erin tells her are elephants, that have noses fit to bathe with, and there arefluffy balls call lambs. Holtzmann nearly passes out when Erin tells her that the clothing she wears is made of such cute little creatures but she relieves the problem with a rushed, "It doesn't hurt them!"

Small flying animals with feathers of all colors called birds, some that can speak! Something called a giraffe that is so tall Holtzmann has endless questions about their necks,

"Why are they like that, so…" Holtz holds her arm straight and high above her head, hand stuck out to mimic the head.

"So they can reach the leaves on trees."

Nodding as this an acceptable answer, she moves onto, "If they break their neck, would the animal go like…" She lefts her forearm fall and swing limply at the bend in her elbow. It is a innocent enough sight it has Erin giggling and replying,

"I don't know."

But of all the possible animals she could be fascinated with, Erin nearly groans when the next Youtube video starts and Holtzmann actually squeals.

"They are so fluffy." Is the next statement, "The term of endearment I am searching for escapes me. But the soft cotton fluff is my favorite."

"Cats." Erin provides the creatures name as the one on screen fits itself into a fish bowl, "A lot of people like them."

"They are," Holtz's face pulls into a look of intense thinking, searching her newly learned vocabulary for the correct word, "Cute?"

"Yes. Cute. It means something is pretty in an endearing way."

Erin watches her face lift at the definition and she asks, "Endearing means what?"

"You want to, how do I phrase this? You want to show it affection. You care about it."

Holtz smiles at the computer screen, her teeth slightly but unnoticeably crooked unless you stare and Erin is actually staring at the grin, her eyes lingering over the pink lips and the dimples that appear with the entrance of such a _genuine_ smile. The blonde makes a noise of understanding, not looking away from the playful kittens on screen as she offhandedly affirms,

"Cats are very cute. So is Erin. Cute."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holtz unintentionally hitting on Erin? Or intentionally? Find out on the next episode of Earth's next gay alien


	6. Pringles

Whatever Holtzmann is, it is definitely not human. Nor is it much different.

After an awkward guided tour of each room, a lesson on what a bathroom is and the fascinating information that Holtzmann does not in fact have such basic human fufunction, but the girl does look much better and _alive_ after a cold shower.

Erin suggested warm, but Holtz's natural heightened body temperature must work well with a chilly water stream. Also, according to the alien, chicken definitely upset her stomachs. _Stomachs_. Two to be precise.

But a can of pringles and cup of apple juice later, Holtzmann agreely bobs her head when Erin asks, "Better?"

Her blonde hair is wet, combed and left down out of it's pinned up style. It's longer than shoulder length, but not down to the middle of her back. Erin's Columbia hoodie is baggy and large on the shorter woman, so much so it covers the pastel pink shorts hugging Holtz's hips.

The pringle snaps in between Holtz's teeth, noise intense in the quiet of the kitchen area. Realistially Erin realizes this can be , _scratch that_ , is very irresponsible and maybe even dangerous, is she technically harboring an illegal alien?

"What are the white…" Holtz's noise crinkles, an action Erin already associates with her thinking of how to convey her messages, "Sky cotton?"

"Coulds." The taller woman says reassuringly, her bangs a bit messy as she runs a hand through them. A quick, indignant squeak of shock comes from Erin as she realizes,

"I have a meeting with the Mayor's assistant today. Oh my god. What am I going to do?" Erin starts pacing, avoiding stepping too close to Holtzmann's swinging feet as she sits up on the counter. "You can't just stay here alone."

As if to prove her point, Erin looks up to see Holtz holding a fork over the toaster, ready to stab at the toast Erin has made for her own breakfast.

"No!" There is a rush as she grabs the utensil out of a curious hand, "You can't. No forks in toasters. Or outlets."

Holtz picks up a spoon.

"No."

The knife she'd brought out to butter said toast with,

"Not that either. Nothing goes into the toaster but bread, ok?" To drill in the statement, Erin pulls out the toast carefully and shows Holtz, "Bread. Got it?"

"I suppose." Holtz drawls out, a bit of a disappointing frown on her lips.

"I'll call Patty," Erin talks to herself more then the girl who is now tipping her head back and lifting the chip can up, jawline undeniably amazing with the movement, "She can... Babysit."

______________

"Hello ladies." Jennifer is kind in her greeting as always, "Sorry if we have to rush this month's budget meeting, but as you've probably seen the city has been hectic since Monday."

Erin tries not to tap her feet or have a jumpy knee, but it bounces enough at that comment so much so Abby careful puts a hand on her knee under the table. Reassuring.

"Crazy, huh?" Abby smiles, not genuine but good to fool Jennifer into returning it, "Aliens. E.T go home." Yates punctuates the joke with raising both her hands an touching her finger tips to each other. The laughter is forced after but the dark haired government worker buys it.

"Crazy indeed. Not to mention the, well, ship was too heavy to move. All our security is tied up with constant guard duties."

"She said duties." Abby jabs her elbow toward the nervous woman sitting next to her. Lynch eyes them warily but continues,

"I reviewed your expense report and…." She types away on her keyboard for a second, looking away from the two sitting across her desk and reading whatever appears on screen, "You can tell Ms. Tolan her request for funding on a," Jennifer squints at the screen and reads it off loudly, "Brick and stone pizza oven has been declined. Other than that, it seems that everything is fine for the month. Can I see your call log?"

Erin freezes, Abby hands over the book without thought. Lynch of course starts at the start of the month, enough to let Erin mouth to her friend.

_'The alien call'_

Abby's eyes widen and she visibly swallows down a mouthful of air. Jennifer flips a page,

"Can I have that back please." It isn't a question, the short woman reaching and making grabbing motions at the paper pad.

"In a second." Jennifer pulls the pen from her hair, chewing on the cap and completely ignoring the woman trying to rip the book from her hands. It continues out, with a mumbled cursing from Abby until,

"You responded to a call the night of the crash?" Lynch looks up curiously at the pair, still ignoring Abby's arm now frozen and outreaching her her, "At the location."

"We didn't see any specter activity in the house and left." Erin tries, hopes her voice doesn't crack as loudly as it sounds like.

Jennifer doesn't hand back the book, instead standing and offering both of them a,

"I have some business to attend to at the moment. But I trust we will be in contact with you girls soon, have a good day."

________

"Patty what did you _do_?"

"Hey." Holtzmann says for the tenth time since Erin and Abby walked it, her face dangerously close to the former's, leaning her shoulder.

"Holtzy can't be walking around sounding like a robot." Patty explains herself, watching with a sense of pride as Abby takes in the state of the apartment. A few books lay open on the coffee table, along with a laptop open and running with urban dictionary's home page displayed on it's screen.

" _Hey_."

"Hi." Erin says back awkwardly and it makes Holtzmann smile wider, dimples out and drawing the older woman's attention.

"I learned lots of new words." Holtzmann states, matter of factly, "Do you know what a bitch is? I'll give you a hint, it is not the female canine."

"Holtzmann!" Erin blushes before shouting to Abby, "She taught Holtz how to swear."

Abby gasps dramatically before pointing a accusing finger at Patty, " _You taught Holtz how to swear._ What were you thinking?"

"Girl, this is New York, what else was I suppose to do?"


	7. Mentos in a Coke Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up cuties?! Another update! Love reading all your nice reviews, and thank you for leaving them!

Erin certainly feels like a mother.

Placing books back onto shelves and placing mugs into the dishwasher, she keeps an eye on Holtzmann as she uses the laptop, screen changing frequently, and Erin wonders if it's too much of an invasion of privacy if she'd look through the history later.

"Are you tired?" The taller woman asks eventually, cleaning down and wringing a hand towel in her hands. Holtz pushes the laptop off her thighs and yawns. The little action is so, purely adorable it as a swell of affection bubbling in Erin's chest, like mentos in a coke bottle.

"Yeah." Holtzmann offers, looks to her host for confirmation that she did use the word correctly. At the nod she receives, the girl stares up at Erin with a tired expression.

"You can um…" Last night they'd both fallen asleep on the couch together. Accidentally of course, "You can sleep on the bed. I'll take the couch."

"Bed?" Holtzmann's head tilts.

Instead of explaining, Erin simply takes her guest's hand (it's becoming more frequent of an action then she thought it would) and tugs her toward the back room. The blinds are already closed and window shut, bed still unmade from the last time she'd slept in it.

"You can sleep here." Erin states, motions toward the bed.

"You too?" Holtzmann questions, reaches out when Erin tries to step out of the room.

"No, I mean…" There is a awkward silence, where it's just Erin looking at Holtz in the dark, not bothering to flip the light on. There's the thought of how scary, how absolutely terrifying this must be. Holtzmann's short, having to look up at Erin as she offers, "I have to go brush my teeth."

"Ok." Is the only needed response, enough that Erin can slip away and quickly start her nighttime bathroom routine. She's going to sleep, be completely unconscious, in a bed with an alien. The word works, it exactly how it's suppose to, because Holtz is definitely not from Earth. But it doesn't fit _her_. Aliens are tiny green men from Mars, not blonde girls with dimples and an overwhelming love for cats.

Back into the bedroom, Erin finds Holtz waiting, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She's obviously tired, droopy eyes and a yawn escaping her.

"Um..." The auburn haired woman can't really form words at the moment, because Holtzmann has no pants on. A baggy shirt she'd somehow found in the apartment. Her hair is down and wavy, dimly lit by moonlight outside the window.

Feeling awkward, Erin walks over and pulls back the covers on the side of the bed the smaller of the two is not sitting on. Sit, lay back, go to sleep. Easy plan.

"Goodnight." She wishes, ignoring the way her heart races when Holtzmann just curls up into her side. Head resting on Erin's chest.

Oh.

_Oh_.

Would it be weird to shift away? Is it weird she doesn't really _want_ to? There's the comforting weight on her chest and Erin's face feels entirely too hot as her house guest literally uses her as a pillow. Then, if it could get worst, a leg is slung over her hips. _Oh my god._

"Ok, ok, ok." says Erin, rushed and breathless, gently pushing Holtzmann to the other side of the bed. "I'm- Holtzmann what are you doing?"

The alien looks completely distraught, not looking at Erin when she speaks. They lay side by side now, facing each other.

"Physical contact is very-" Holtz gulps, and Erin swears she sees a blush cover the girl's cheeks, "-It's very comforting for my type and I was careless to assume you would agree to such. I usually have Gorin for this and it has been very stressful recently."

At mentioning Gorin, Holtzmann finds herself letting her bottled up distress out, her breath coming in heavy, deep heaving bursts, "I find Earth to be terrifying, and she is gone and I cannot go home."

Her heart breaks further when Erin runs a hand through her hair and tries to alleviate, "I'm sorry it's so… different here."

As stupid as it sounds, Erin hadn't realized Holtzmann would actually want to go home. It makes sense, of course. She's truly alone here. The blonde most likely has family back on Stellabarus. Maybe even, Erin thinks, _children_.

"What do you miss most?"

Holtzmann sniffles, "Everything."

___________

Erin feels guilty when she wakes up the next morning with Holtz all the way across the bed, leaving space in between them and her back toward her.

Coffee. Definitely need coffee right now.

A few minutes later the dripping of said black beverage is brewing up in the kitchen, Erin leaning against the corner and scrolling through the news on her phone. Mostly involving the alien thing, sometimes dotted with whatever the fuck Trump is up too.

There'd been an idea forming in her head, since she'd started falling asleep last night. Something to get Holtzmann to feel a bit better, hopefully cheer her up.

Speak of the devil, she looks up from her phone to see a bed head ridden, drool dried on her chin Holtz shuffling out of the bedroom.

"We're going out today." Erin announces, pours herself a cup of coffee before handing Holtzmann one and watching her guest pour sugar into the beverage.

"Out?" There is an apprehensive look in those blue eyes as the glance at the window, sun beating against the closed drapes.

"I have a plan."

The plan, it turns out, is Holtzmann wearing her hair down and an old, slightly worn New York Jets baseball cap pulled on tightly over her head. The bandage covered, ears masked by both the long hair and hat.

"I don't have sunglasses with me." Erin regretfully tells her, "But if you keep your head down and don't look up, the hat should shield your eyes until we get to the store."

"Store?"

Erin takes a deep breath, "Walmart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW there are no Walmarts in New York city but... I need to for fluff ok


	8. Walmart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter so much but I needed to get Holtzmann some clothes smh

"Welcome to Walmart."

Erin grabs a cart the moment they walk into the building, guiding Holtzmann away from the greeter at the door and luring her away from the entrance.

"What are those?" Holtzmann asks, pointing at a very colorful container of pastries lined up near the bakery.

"'Cupcakes. But we don't need- HOLTZ!"

The sticker holding the container shut is no match to the alien's finger as she tugs it open and attempts to pick up the treat inside.

"No. Bad." The older woman scolds, grabbing her company's hand and placing to on the edge of their cart. "Do not let go of this cart, ok?"

"Ok."

Two turns a a carefully avoided toy section later, they stumble into the women's clothing department and Holtzmann frowns so deeply it has Erin sighing.

"You don't like any of it?"

"Nu-uh." She touches a shirt that has a deep red floral design on it, eyes lingering on the fabric with a distaste for it.

"Well, lets get you pants then." Erin relents, cursing the universe for giving her the most stubborn person regarding each top they pass.

Four pairs of shorts, varying colors and two pairs of sweatpants that actually fit. Erin picks up a pair of jeans and realizes she doesn't exactly know Holtzmann's size. Puts them back down and leaves the fitting room lesson for another day.

But she turns away from the shelves again, "I think that's all you need for now, but we have to stop by the underwear-"

Holtzmann is gone.

It takes Erin a few seconds to see the blonde over across the aisle. But in the moment her heart stops and the pulse of blood in her air beats heavily, her mind automatically reminding her of what mothers with lost children feel like. Horrible.

But Holtz looks over and smiles, waves before holding up a graphic tee, it's light blue with red lettering that spells out, one of the boys. And Erin finds their cart among the displays, following Holtzmann into the men's department. No surprise.

___

There are ten graphic tees, two of which have cats printed on them, thrown in the cart along with the bottom choices. Great, now for _that_ part of the trip.

"Ok, so…"

"What is this?"

"A bra. It's very common for women on Earth to wear them." Erin looks around them to look for listening ears but finds none, shoving the shoulder of her shirt aside and showing Holtzmann the black strap that lays against her own skin, "See? We have to figure out your size."

"What is your size?" Holtz innocently tries to grab the bottom on her shirt and lift, plan being foiled by Erin blushing and smacking had hands away.

"34B, and you-" Erin actually stares at Holtz's chest and takes a breath, "Might be around that size, ok?"

"Why does this one have so much funny hole filled fabric?"

Erin nearly laughs when Holtz holds the undergarment up to her eyes and makes a silly face through the item, sticking her tongue out and opening her eyes wide.

"Because it's pretty. Come on."

___

The fitting room is small and cramped and Erin wonders why she thought she'd be able to wait outside.

She pushes Holtz in and not three minutes later the confused and pained yelp comes from instead the space, "Help!"

Entering the unlocked (probably should of explained that one) room she finds Holtzmann with her arms above her head and a bright pink bra tangled in her hair.

"First off, you have to take your shirt off first."

"Got it." Holtzmann jots that one down in her memory for later, watching as Erin steps closer and reaches up to snap the clasp of the earthen contraption open.

"Secondly," She gently combs her fingers through her hair to free the fabric, guiding Holtz's arms down, "You don't close it before putting it on."

Holtzmann was very use to being naked in front of others. The lack of clothes on Stellabarus hadn't been an issue for most as long as it didn't extend to the bottom half. The blonde has yet to see a human female walking around without a shirt. Seems like its inappropriate here.

"Take this off." Erin commands, softly and filled with nerves. The shirt is off and dropped to the floor, Holtzmann looking expectantly up at her. "Then you take it and put it around your waist..."

Her hands brush against bare skin, making the alien jump for a moment, "And buckle the clasp in front."

Erin nearly feels like she's dying when her fingers shake, trying unsuccessfully to get it together. The back of her hand brushes against the side of Holtzmann's breast and it gives her enough of a jolt to get it clasped.

"Then you just spin it around like this." The red head is squeaking at this point, avoiding looking at Holtzmann's eyes but that just leads to looking at her chest as she pulls the damn bra around to have to face forward.

The straps go up on each shoulder and Holtzmann experimentally cups herself and glances up for the final declaration.

A long light sigh and, "Perfect fit."

___

At home, she's still not use to having another person around, they put away Holtzmann's clothes along side Erin's in the small closet and chest. The day only half over and no need for them at the firehouse.

So Holtzmann walks up to her, determined and her chest puffed out as she tells her,

"I am going to teach you something."

"… Ok?"

"You have taught me a lot of things already and I thank you for that." Holtz rushes, but her words are firm and she states, "I am going to teach you stuff from my planet. What do you want to know?"

She's nervous, it probably shows but Erin just pauses before asking, "Your ship-"

"I built it. Gorin helped of course. We wanted to explore. Planet-wide laws strictly forbid such devices being created but I am expert at getting things to work." Holtzmann says, "It's made of a compound that's three times denser than Earth's densest metal. I checked the google. What else would you like to know?"

"You don't have to tell me anything-"

"I have three brothers. They are much younger than me but I use to play games with them. Do you know a popular game is similar to handshakes on Earth? May I teach you?"

"Of course."


	9. Special Agent (Dana Scully)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm working on so much so sorry if this sucks ass.

"Put them together like this." Holtzmann sits cross legged on the couch, facing Erin who mirrors the exact post, in only a bit better in the posture department. Holtzmann crinkles her nose as she thinks, "And then we smack them together."

"What?"

"Smack your hands against my hands!" Holtzmann insists, demonstrating with Erin's as they are raised in front of her.

The whole thing in it's entirety is two back and forth snake like moments of their palms sliding against each other, followed by a double high five. Which with the little clap seems to bring great joy to the blonde.

She laughs, loud and from the belly and it sparks something that makes Dr. Gilbert want to keep hearing the sound.

The TV is playing quietly and Erin isn't surprised to see the station it's on, FOX, airing reruns of The X-Files.

What surprises her is Holtzmann dropping her hands onto her knees and staring at the television screen so suddenly.

"Oh." Erin facepalms, realizing it could be insensitive to be watching a show about aliens. Cultural appropriation? The social justices warriors would have a field day with this one. "I'll change it, sorry."

"Wait!" Holtz jumps when she stands up, ending up on her knees in front of the TV. "Who is that?"

It's asked so quietly, so starstruck that Erin shifts awkwardly, "The guy?"

"No! The woman."

"Special agent Dana Scully?"

Holtzmann drools.

___

Abby groans.

"Erin we _have_ to-"

"I know."

"We can't keep it-"

" _Her_." Erin corrects.

"-Locked up in your apartment for the rest of her life. What if she lives for like, 400 years?"

That didn't occur to her, and despite the guilty feeling she gets Erin runs her hands over her arms and protests, "It isn't safe."

"Staying with you isn't any safer."

Abby is glaring daggers at her friend as they discuss this over her kitchen counters, Holtzmann currently planted in front of the television in an X-files induced trance. "We had an agent show up at the firehouse yesterday, Patty _nearly_ had a heart attack."

"Someone showed up?" Erin pales.

"See, you can't even come to work. People are asking things, powerful people who regulate our funding." Abbey's glasses are low on her nose, her dark hair in a ponytail that sways as she shakes her head slowly, "You need to ask her."

"To do what, exactly? Just leave?" Erin can practically feel her brain thinking this over. "She doesn't even have a vehicle to go in."

"The ship is still at the site. It's guarded 24/7 but if we can breach the perimeter and get Holtz in…"

"Does it even work?"

"Insider leaks claim the computer devices on board are still turning on," Abby frowns, "It's just that the government can understand what's on the screens. Any other damage, I don't know."

"What if she can't repair it?"

"We'll think of something."

___

Holtzmann fits perfect, if you don't count the too long sleeves, into Erin's old soft leather jacket from her rebellious college years (more like year).

She looks adorable standing by the door in grey sweats and a white tee, fingers brushing around the brim of her baseball hat.

With eyeshadow on.

Holtz had practically jumped when Erin had come out of the bathroom with makeup on, blue eyeshadow and a light lipstick, black eyeliner to top it all off.

"You painted yourself." The blonde had said with such a surprised expression, followed immediately by giddiness. "May I?"

It had been a bit of a fight explaining that no, you cannot put eyeliner on your cheeks before Erin had stepped back and admired her work, or rather a good excuse to stare at her housemates face without having to look away after getting caught. Light pink eyelids and glossy lips, the best Erin could do without Holtz flinching away from the brushes near her eyes.

"Where are we going?" Holtz asks, curious.

"Uh," Erin searches for how to deliver this news and settles on the straight forward answer of, "To where your ship crashed. We thought you could see if it was still working."

The flash of fear across Holtzmann's face is nearly heartbreaking, scratch that, it is heartbreaking. Especially when the girl's eyes bolt back and forth nervously trying not to look at Erin in front of her.

"I expected this," She says more to herself than anyone, "It was only so long that you would want to take care of me, I'm quite the annoyance as many before have said."

That sparks Erin's interest, "No! I don't want you to leave, it's great having you here. Why do you think you're annoying?"

"On my planet," Holtz bites her bottom lip before continuing, "I was considered very reckless, as a child and it stayed with me into adulthood. The elders were _very_ ," She clears her throat and looks downward, "Upset with me for this. The only reason I was kept around was my natural gifted talent with advanced technologies."

"Kept you around?"

" _Removed_. Would be the word you would use. It is horrible, and they decided to do it to me around the time I accidentally set my lab partner of fire during our building of the ship I came here in."

"Did they die?"

"Almost." Holtz finally looks up and takes a deep breath, blue eyes meeting her own as, "Certain I was going to be removed, my teacher and mentor Gorin and I set out on the untested transportation and the next thing I knew-" She makes a poofing gesture with her heads, "Here I am."

"If you can," Erin starts, not wanting to truly hear the answer, "Would you go back?"

It hurts, but it makes sense when Holtz replies despite the fate waiting for her back home,

"Probably "


	10. Breaking and Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm disappointed in my writing of this story so far, it's spotty and haphazard like my LIFE

"Honestly this wasn't in my contract." Patty shakes her head, lips pursed as the three women (only two of which are humans) look up at the tallest ghostbuster hopefully. "I ain't gonna be no bait, come on!"

It's nearly comedic with how much Patty is struggling, grinding her teeth together and glaring daggers at Abby when she dares to say, "It's not that big of a deal."

"Sure, sure." The woman throws her hands up in the air, "Send the black lady as a distraction in front of white government paid workers. And I thought y'all were scientists."

Erin shares a guilty but agreeing look with Abby before they nod, "Good point, we'll send Abby."

Yates groans, but runs out into the open field.

__

They're circling around the recently set up chain link fence, listening as Abby does her absolute best at getting the lone guard in that section.

"My car broke down a little back-"

"Ma'am-"

"It has like, three flat tires."

Holtz keeps trying to peek over the short bushes, eyes curiously taking in the military trucks and tents, all spaced safely away from the still smoking rubble of the alien ship.

As silent as possible, Patty uses the heavy bolt cutters enough to allow both Erin and Holtz to crawl under the fence, both having a little dirt on them when they stand up on the other side.

"Wait!" Holtz says, too loud but not enough to draw attention. But Erin spins to look at her and blushes when the blonde picks a small twig from the taller of the two's bangs.

"Thank you." Erin mumbles, grabbing the blonde's hand and rushing her through the tall grass, quiet as the field mice who inhabit it.

The spaceship practically glows in the dark, it's hulking form still as terrifying as the first time Erin saw it. The shell of it is cold to the touch and it's a bit of a jump to reach the opening.

She hops, trying to grasp the edge and isn't surprised to feel Holtz latch onto her legs and push her up the smooth metallic surface.

The favor is returned when Erin reaches down and pulls Holtz over.

"Thanks." Holtz grins, "Or is that the plural…"

"Holtz." Erin feels her heart beating wildly in her chest, the adrenaline of breaking into a government site getting to her as she ignores the conversation and asks desperately, "Where's the travel log?"

The extra terrestrial prances over to a panel, the keyboard like interface lighting up when she starts tapping buttons. Then a screen pops to life at eye level.

"Boo-yah." Holtzmann says, chancing a look behind her at Erin who gives her a thumbs up and nods to assure she used the term correctly.

Patty will be so proud.

She turns back to the screen and nearly faints on the spot, feels all her stomachs roll as the map and code of the ship unravels in front of her.

She must stagger in her standing, feels Erin rush over and place a hand on her lower back to steady her, "What's wrong?"

"30,000,000."

"What's that mean?"

Holtzmann backs up, pushes away Erin's worried hands, uses her own to push the hat off her head and painfully grip the blonde curls underneath.

"Talk to me!" Erin begs. Watching as shock, fear, pain fly across the girl's features. The stand across from each other, both desperate for answers. Erin asks her's first, "What's that number?"

Holtz's mouth opens once, twice like a fish out of water as she tries to speak before she croaks out,

"I've been asleep for 30 million years."

__

Patty notices the change, but doesn't push beyond the deadpanned answer from their little alien friend that the ship is fried.

Abby notices too, but she doesn't let things settle in the same way.

"What's wrong?" She inquires, looking behind her as Patty drives down the empty roads back home.

Erin doesn't want to answer that. It seems so impossible.

Holtz does instead, "Ship's gone. I can't get that working even if I had the right materials. Also, I spent a few million years hurdling through space time."

She says it so casual, but she bites the inside of her cheek and taps her fingers against the carseat to the chorus of questions that start up front in the vehicle.

"What do you mean? How even?"

"Explain."

"The ship's log recorded 30,000,087 light years over it's course. Of course I wasn't awake for any of it." Holtz folds her arms across her chest and slouches in her seat, "Gorin and I had pods of sorts, kept us alive and in a deep coma during long period travel."

"Makes sense." Abby tries, it doesn't.

"The log recorded a malfunctioned fuse, took out the generator and in turn, the pods. The only reason I'm alive is because..."

Erin scoots closer, lets Holtz lean into her warmth and their thighs touch,

"The backup kicked in, but it only had enough power to keep the ship going and one pod powered up."

'Yours?"

Holtz nods to confirm Erin's theory, "Gorin had written in an override that put myself as a higher priority than her. Most likely due to the fact our ship was purely experimental and bound to break eventually."

"So she died before crashing here?" Abby says.

"Two weeks before." Holtz sounds defeated, eyes downcast and teary, "According to the ship, the crash happened from rust on the gravity shield, your planet pulled us in."

"So you can't go home?" Abby finally voices their concern, even if Erin doesn't want to lose Holtz, they all want what's best for her. But Holtz leans away, rests her forehead against the car window to gaze up at the stars in the dark sky.

"I'm not sure there is a home left."

 


	11. Name Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heating things up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Fook (A fellow writer in the fandom) for helping me out and being generally great at her own works too!

Holtzmann has been deadly quiet for three days.

Three days of radio silence. Even Erin's attempts to get the girl to speak have been met with a blank expression and two unfocused eyes. She sits crosslegged now on the kitchen floor, hands fanning out against the cool tile.

Erin awkwardly steps around the blonde on the floor, trying to reach the fridge without hitting her. It's a bit painful, but the woman gets three bottles of water. Stepping back, she places one carefully next to Holtz.

She doesn't touch it.

Erin puts the one that she had placed this morning, which had gotten warm from being left untouched, on the counter and then leaves the room. Erin sits down tiredly next to Abby on her couch. Patty is casually leaning back in an arm chair nursing a Budweiser.

"I don't understand it," she starts as soon as she settles in. "She's in some sort of alien grieving process, I think."

"Has she moved at all?" Abby whispers loudly, eyes casting over to the pair of feet seen from the kitchen. The restof Holtz is hidden by the wall separating them.

"No," Erin answers, defeated.

Patty leans forward, elbows on knees and bottle dangling in her hands. "If she's staying, we gotta figure out how to make that little E.T. blend in, because right now they're on a witch hunt for her."

"How exactly can we do that?" Abby pipes up.

Patty presses her lips together tightly, a thinking look on her face before suggesting, "She needs a name."

"Holtzmann is her -"

"I mean a full name, like the kind your mama screamed before whooping your ass kinda name," the woman elaborates, finally sitting back again to let the others think about it.

"She's right," Abby says.

"When is she ever not?" Erin groans.

___

"It's not like picking one for a dog we can't just-"

"Abby." Erin stops her, hair up in a unusually high ponytail, "You were the only suggesting that the name Sophie."

The shorter scientist grasps her chest in mock pain, "I'll have you know my grandma was a Sophie."

Erin doesn't react, "I met all your grandparents and none even had a name that started with S. Besides she's not a _Sophie_."

"Erin Gilbert doesn't want her new girlfriend to have the-" Abby is interrupted.

"She's not my girlfriend." Erin fusses, glancing over to see Patty crouched next to the little blonde, talking quietly. "I'm just taking care of her until…"

Abby lets her trail off but goes serious for a moment, "Just, I know she isn't exactly a human but that girl looks at you like you hung the damn moon. Don't mess it up."

"What do you mean?" Erin stutters out, face turning a brilliant red.

"Nothing." Abby smirks, dropping the topic and ignoring Erin's desperate expression in favor of, "What kind of name should she have then?"

"Uh," The physicist thinks for a moment. Mulls over everything she knows about Holtz in the little time they've known each other. She likes Pringles, her favorite animal is a cat and watches the X-files…

Erin stiffens up, eyes lighting up, "I've got it."

___

"Hey." Erin sits down across the way from Holtz as soon as the others leave for the night, she looks at they're feet in between them and idly taps her toes against the bottoms of Holtz's arch. It's colder than she's ever felt.

A quick trip across the apartment later she arrives back with two fuzzy socks in mismatched colors.

It's weirdly intimate, silently putting them on the other woman but Erin offers a smile to the blank gaze given to her and says gently, "How do those feel?"

No response, but she flexes her toes against the soft fabric and Erin watches her crinkle and uncrinkle them a few times.

"Holtzmann?" Erin calls.

"Holtz? After a few more seconds.

It's small, but two eyes drift up to met her's and the turmoil there almost makes Erin look away but she instead says, "Do you like the name Jillian?"

Outside a car honks and what is likely an alley cat yowls below, the New York sky is much too polluted to see any stars but the moon peeks from behind clouds.

Holtzmann nods.

Correction, _Jillian_ nods.

Her heart jumps at Holtz's little movement being more than she'd been given in days. The space in her chest feels impossibly filled with butterflies when the alien sits forward on her knees to crawl into her lap.

Didn't she say something about contact being comforting.

Erin carefully places her hands at her sides, not sure of what will come next. They're both so small in comparison to the wide expanse of the universe yet the human likens the column of Holtz's throat to the galaxies, the line of jaw sharp but soft like the embrace of a black hole her eyes get lost looking at. So much of the universe and they'd ended up here at the same time.

_Your girlfriend._ Abby echoes in her thoughts. Right as Jillian closes the distance and plants a heavy kiss against Erin's lips, missing a little and more or less smooching the side of her mouth, but has stars implode behind Erin's eyelids as they fall shut, her nerves feeling like a belt of comets rushing together at unbelievable speed to process the fact that Holtz isn't keen on pulling away and neither is she.

But everything good in Erin's life feels like it's too short, something just out of reach. The pounding on her front door is that, cutting off what could happen and replacing it with what _is_.

They break, both looking to the entrance area just as the deadbolt is kicked in.

 


	12. Smoke and Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is just a weird alien freak fest isn't it.

The first thing that registers is not pain, but the feeling of a thinly cushioned seat beneath her bottom. The comes the touch of cold metal handcuffing her to the armrests, and her feet shackled to the floor.

Oh. _Interesting_.

Erin blearily opens her eyes to see two men standing in front of her in sleek black suits, sunglasses neat and simple to match resting on the bridges of their noses.

"Ms. Gilbert-" The one on the left, older and a bit of stubble on his slightly wrinkled face.

"Doctor." Erin spits out the correction, even if her throat feels dry and her gaze focuses on the I.V. dripping into her right arm.

"Dr. Gilbert." He repeats, "Do you know why you are here?"

"Where is here?" She asks, words slurring a bit.

"An undisclosed location. Somewhere in Nevada, if it helps." The younger agent speaks up, fresh faced and obviously new. The man, more of a boy, shifts nervously on his feet and states, "You were in contact with the unidentified organism, correct?"

"Holtzmann." Erin's eyes tear up a bit thinking of her, dizzy as she finally sits straight up to face these men as strongly as possible. "Where is she?"

"Did the subject hurt you in anyway, Dr. Gilbert? Our physical exam did not produce any evidence of trauma, but…"

"What exam?" The redhead feels sick to her stomach digesting the information given to her, "Holtz- Holtzmann would never hurt anyone, I want to see her."

"The subject injured seven guards while they tried to restrain her, third degree burns on all cases." The older agent reads out almost robotically. "Subject will not let herself be touched by scientist and keeps screaming for you, Doctor."

"How is she burning people?" Erin says a bit shocked, tears filling her eyes but refusing to let them fall. The overwhelming fear of being in a stark white room with government strangers.

"Holtzmann, as you refer to it," The man seems a bit mocking, " Seems to be hot to the touch, if that makes sense. If it wasn't for how valuable it is to research, we'd of shot her already."

"Let me talk to her." Erin begs, gut clenching up at the mere idea of Holtz getting hurt, "I'll make her calm down."

"Let's hope you can," The younger one stiffens up, crossing his arms in front of him, "for both of you."

The threat is heavy in the air. Erin assures them,

"I will."

___

The room they lead her too is dark and bare, the door shutting behind her as they push her inside. Against the fair wall is a window looking into a much brighter room, with a very stressed and glowing Holtzmann sits on the floor.

Unsurprisingly her eyes are screwed tight from the overhead lamps, her skin dances with black energy that flows out like a fog from her pores, pooling around her on the concrete floor like a horror film.

A voice rings through the room she's in,

"You may use the intercom next to you."

Erin takes two times of reaching toward the button and losing her nerve before pressing the little red thing down, "Hello."

Holtz practically jumps, frantically looking around the room. Her eyes dart back and forth like she's chasing a firefly with them, settling on the chrome glass that Erin stands behind.

"Where are you?" Holtz calls out, sounding small in the way her voice cracks mid sentence.

Erin raises her knuckles to the glass and taps twice, tentative in her movement in case it's something against the rules here. "Right here."

It must be super-human speed that has the blonde up against the glass so fast. Her eyes are almost bug like in a non-creepy way as she blinks slowly at the surface in front of her, "I cannot see you."

"It's ok." Erin gently affirms, not wanting to have to explain one way mirrors right now. "I just came to tell you it's ok. Why are you hurting people?"

Erin knows, but Holtz's just says what she's thinking, "They are going to hurt me. Hurt you?"

It's so broken, in the way her hand comes up to touch the mirror. Grey fog getting darker in shade as she growls, "I would kill them."

"You can't kill anyone." The older woman eases, trying to keep the situation as easy as possible. "You can't hurt them. Please don't."

There is a loud, banging lock being flung open and the door in Holtzmann's room has three men rushing in to surround alien.

Her eyes flash black and it honestly chills Erin to the bone, heart hammering against her chest as they take a firm hold of each of her friend's arms.

But they don't jump back, Holtz doesn't react when they secure her.

Until Erin feels someone place a cloth over her mouth, the sudden danger sneaking up on the redhead. Her focus of Holtzmann leaving her open to attack.

The white rag smells like chemicals and the bleach her mother used when she was a child. Memories of coughing rack her brain as the arm holding her from falling digs into her back.

Holtzmann must hear something, her head darting to the woman as if she could see through walls.

Erin's whole being is feeling fuzzy, including her eyes, but she is definitely not seeing things as the room Holtz is in bursts in a hail of white light, the agents in there with her blown off their feet. The last thing the older woman sees is the shattering glass in front of her, and the feel of her body being dropped to the floor.


	13. Roadside

Erin feels like she's floating.

  
If floating included the sway of being carried, the heavy steps of the figure holding her up by an arm under her knees and around her shoulders. There's a deep warmth radiating from the body her own is pressed against, and unthinkingly tries to reach up and hold onto that comfort.

  
But she opens her eyes and her hand stills midair, shock locking up her muscles as she gazes up through the dizziness and blurry vision to the fuzzy outline of Holtzmann looking down at her.

  
Except it isn't Holtzmann.

  
The blonde's hair is near white, down and scorched on the ends, hanging messily down to her shoulders and pushed behind her ears to expose the odd pointed things. Her skin looks paler by a bit, but there are patches of glowing black scale like patches that fade in and out with the beating of the heart she can hear through the government issued soft white uniform.

  
Erin can't help but cry out, would of jumped if she could of, watching Holtz blink once and her eyes glaze over in black, then again to return them to normal.

  
Holtz sets her down, and she registers they're on a stretch of highway in the desert, it makes Erin wonder how long the woman has been walking.

  
“Erin?” Her voice is the same, a bit hurt as the redhead scoots to put space in between them. She sits down too, pulling her knees up to her chest and facing Erin curiously.  
The translucent patterns, black with a glowing white tracing the outline of each ‘scale’ like shape, one is directly below her left eye, pulsing slowly with an eerily illuminated firefly like glow. More of patches are exposed over the expanse of her collarbone, disappearing into her shirt and trailing down her arms and legs.

  
“Your feet.” Erin almost sighs the words out, getting over the pit of unease in her stomach to add, “They're bleeding.”

  
Red, dark blood from the cuts on the sides and probably worse on the soles. Walking barefoot down a desert road? Not a great idea.

  
Holtzmann does not respond, but relents when Erin pulls her battered feet into her lap to inspect each toe, pulling out a few pieces of debris that caused deeper cuts. The alien doesn't even wince.

  
_Alien_.

  
Erin lets her fingers drift up to Holtz's ankle, touching the odd glowing patterns as her mouth takes it's time drawing out the question, “What is this?”

  
Another beat, another second for the glow under her hands to pulse, and she asks, “What was that back there?”

  
“A self-defense mechanism.” Holtz whispers, her eyes periodically going from black to blue and back again.

  
“Why didn't you…” Erin takes her friend’s – more than friend's hand in her own and questions, “Why didn't you tell us about it before?”

  
A blush actually creeps up the blonde's neck, the hand not held going to dig it's fingers into the soft sand they sit on.

  
“I was already unusual enough,” Holtz chokes out, “I might not be from here, but I know that there is nothing like this here.”

  
She self consciously rubs at the patches on her arm, as if to make them go away under the pressure of her palm.

  
“You, Patty and Abby are all I have now. I could not lose you and I did not know how different was too different.”

  
Those same sapphire tears trail down suddenly, and Erin finds herself catching Holtzmann’s other hand to keep it from rubbing her arm raw, “We wouldn't of turned you away.”

  
“If you did, it would not be the first time. My own home did it,” She pauses, glances up at the stars before adding, “You know I am not welcomed on Earth.”

  
Erin immediately states, “But I want you here.”

  
A smile plays on Holtz's lips, “You do not want me like I do you.” It doesn't reach her eyes. Black, blue, black. Her usual flare is extinguished, leaving exactly what there has been, a lost and scared soul knocking on a door to a world that won't let her in. “Did you want me to kiss you?”

  
“Yes.” There isn't any doubt in Erin's reply, but she seals the deal with sitting up on her knees to lean down and plant a kiss directly against Holtzmann's lips, from this close she can feel the pulses of the patches on Holtzmann's neck as she trails kisses down onto them, desperate to make Holtz understand she wants this. Wants her.

  
“The layer has a name,” Holtzmann breathes out, “It doesn't completely translate, but it is a heat resisting sheet of cells that rests dormant on the surface of the outer layer of skin.”

  
“It wakes up when you…” Erin trails off, piecing everything together.

“Erupt is a good word for it,” There is the return of playfulness to her tone, a bit more back to herself as she adds merrily, “putting the _boo_ in boom.”

  
“So those men in that room, they died?”

  
Holtzmann nods, “Boiled.”

  
“You can control it?”

  
“No.” Her dimples are visible as she frowns, “It is biological, but there are warning signs that are controlled, like rising body heat. A touch that physically burns, that can be subdued with enough will power.”

  
“I trust you.” Erin affirms, “You wouldn't hurt anyone without a reason.”

  
There is the bright shine of headlights coming their way, and Erin carefully pulls Holtzmann's hair forward to cover her ears and obscure her face a bit.

  
“Don't worry, I'll get us the rest of the way, good?”

  
She waits for Holtz to nod before standing up to wave down the ford truck slowing down beside them, a heavy but kind faced man who asks if they need any help.

  
“Mind if we hitch a ride to the nearest town?”

  
An hour later Holtzmann is sleeping in her lap, Erin fingers playing absently with her hair and noting how the unusual color and skin condition has faded to nothing once again. The truck hits a small bump, but the two women in the flatbed barely care.   
Erin finally lets out a breath she’d been holding when the road gets wider and a sign to the exit they're taking reads,

  
_MOTEL, 6 MILES._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a least favorite? I hated it tbh. Felt like it could of done better.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, review if you liked it!


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